


Peeping Tom

by runawaygypsy



Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Peeping, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 12:02:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2347805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runawaygypsy/pseuds/runawaygypsy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom gets caught watching his hostess in a compromising position.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peeping Tom

"Are you sure you're alright with this?" Tom asked earnestly. "Because I can just as easily get a hotel room for the night."

Marielle sighed. "I told you, it's fine. I don't mind you couch surfing tonight." She had been neighbors with Tom for a couple years now and had always found it humorous that, even though he was getting to be quite the well-known actor, he still was such a regular guy. There had been many times he would knock on her door to borrow a cup of sugar, to ask if she was also having electrical problems, and sometimes, just to invite her over for a friendly cup of tea. He was such a nice guy that she rarely minded any intrusion he might make. 

She pulled a pillow from a closet near the bathroom and threw it at him, nearly hitting him in the head. "Sorry," she apologized as he ducked with an overdramatic "Oof." "Just remember, the bathroom door gets jammed and doesn't always like to close all the way. I've learned to live with it."

"Yeah," Tom nodded as he spread out a blanket on her couch and topped it with the pillow. "Again, thank you so much for letting me stay here while they repair my ceiling." He had returned from his last job overseas to find that the neighbor upstairs had left her bathtub running while she visited her daughter. She was an elderly woman, very nice, but very prone to forgetting things. The water had run down into Tom's flat ruining the ceiling and raining down upon all his possessions. Luckily, the water had missed his prized collection of books, but everything else had gotten soggy. The landlord had employed industrial fans to dry everything out and insurance had replaced all of Tom's other belongings that had been ruined, but they needed two days to replace the entire ceiling.

"No problem," Marielle replied. "It's not like you wouldn't have done the same for me." She walked into the living room and grabbed the remote control from the coffee table. "It's still early. Care for some television?" she asked, plopping into an overstuffed chair in the corner.

Tom sat down on the sofa. "Sure." He watched intently, giving brief opinions on what was available as she scrolled through the channel guide. "Oh, that's a great movie," he smiled when she stopped on "Ace Ventura: Pet Detective."

Marielle raised her eyebrow at him. "You can't be serious." Tom shrugged and smirked at her. "Mr. 'I love Shakespeare' and you want me to believe Ace Ventura is a wonderful film?"

"Well," Tom excused, "Jim Carrey is a comedic genius." He was grinning now, trying to win her over with his 'I get what I want' smile.

Marielle gave in with a sigh. "Alright, have at it then." She set the remote down on the side table and propped her legs over the arm of the chair. It's going to be a long night, she though. 

She had never given much thought to Tom before. Sure, she knew women absolutely went crazy for him, and, yes, he was heaven to look at, the nicest guy she'd ever met, but he was so normal. And he certainly wasn't the type of guy she normally went for. She tended to prefer the rock star type. Her last boyfriend had long black hair, had been covered in muscles and tattoos and played bass guitar in a punk band. Tom definitely did not fit that mold. One thing Tom definitely was, though, was a good friend. And, he had an excellent sense of humor. She was not a big Jim Carrey fan, but the fact that Tom laughed so heartily at the movie spurned her own funny bone on and she found herself gasping for air at some of the jokes.

About halfway through the movie, she had gotten up to make some popcorn and had brought out a bag of peanut M&Ms for them to share along with a couple of beers. Tom had made room for her to sit next to him and they enjoyed their treats side by side, occasionally elbowing each other in the ribs at the funny parts. Marielle was thoroughly enjoying her house guest and she hoped Tom was enjoying his stay.

When the movie was over, she stretched and stood up. "I should probably get ready for bed," she yawned. 

"Big day tomorrow?" Tom asked expectantly.

She shook her head. "No, it's my day off, but I like to keep the same time so I don't get groggy when I go back to work."

He nodded in appreciation. "Good plan. I like to get up early myself and go for a run." His brows furrowed. "Except, I get up pretty early. I wouldn't want to wake you."

"No worries about that, Mate," she smiled. "I'm a sound sleeper until my alarm goes off." She waved at Tom and left the room, proceeding down the hallway.

Tom heard her shut her bedroom door. He hadn't realized how much sound the flats carried, but he could hear her pulling drawers out in her bureau and rummaging around in her room, her radio playing soft music in the background. He leaned against the back of the couch and shut his eyes, trying to forget the endless lists of things he needed to do that ran rampant through his head. He concentrated on every other sound. Marielle opened her bedroom door and he heard her shuffle across the carpet, stopping in front of the bathroom. "I'm jumping in the shower," she announced.

"Alright," Tom answered. He heard the bathroom door swing closed and the sounds of the medicine cabinet squeaking open and then shut. She turned the shower on and he could hear the tinkle of the curtain rings as she pulled the shower curtain closed. And then, she began singing. At first, Tom thought it was maybe the radio he heard, but as she continued, he realized it was Marielle. He guessed she had forgotten he was there, but, either way, he was enjoying the sound. She sang like an angel. There were three songs she sang before Tom heard the water turn off. There was the soft thud of her feet against the tile as she got out of the shower and then a pause as she dried off. 

When she emerged from the bathroom, she was clad in a fluffy blue bathrobe. Marielle peeked around the corner. "Goodnight, Tom," she smiled. 

So, she hadn't forgot, he thought. Tom smiled back. "Goodnight, Mari." 

Tom had kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his boxers in preparation for the sleep he hoped to get. He was fairly accustomed to sleeping in strange places, but not on the sofa, and not in the same building as his own flat. As he lay down, it was the beer and the sound of running water that had done him in. His bladder screamed and he rushed to the bathroom to pee. 

He remembered what Mari had told him and was careful to close the bathroom door before he relieved himself. He didn't mean to be nosy, but, as he stood in the bathroom, he couldn't help but glance around at the various perfumes and lotions she had. The drawer for the vanity was slightly ajar and he saw nothing special, save a small stack of smutty novels. He smiled wickedly to himself as he thumbed through one of their pages. Well, Mari, now I know what you're really into, he thought.

As he pulled his boxers up, a noise startled him. He shut the vanity drawer and opened the door. The noise was coming from the end of the hallway. As he made his way toward it, he realized it was coming from Marielle's room. The door was cracked open and from where Tom was standing, he could see a mirror. As he was about to turn around and go back into the living room, he realized that he could see Marielle's reflection in the mirror. She was splayed out on the bed completely naked, legs splayed out, back elevated against the stack of pillows. One hand was at her breasts, taking turns squeezing her nipples, rubbing them, tracing around them, arousing them. The other hand was between her legs, on her sex, fingers strumming as though she was playing a guitar. The sound he had heard was a moan, wild and unabated and now, he heard another one. He knew he shouldn't be watching her, but he was enthralled and couldn't look away. He felt a stirring in his boxers and he reached down to adjust himself. God, he thought, what I wouldn't give to be in there, right now.

Tom had been attracted to Marielle from the first day he met her, but, when she moved in, she had been dating a burly biker-type man. He didn't know if they'd had a good or bad relationship, only that he'd heard shouting quite frequently from her flat. Those were the times he found excuses to go over. He wanted to make sure she was alright. And she was, at least visibly. When she had broken up with her boyfriend, Tom was her shoulder to cry on. And they had become friends. He hoped they would become more than that.

Now, he wondered who she thought about as she touched herself. She never said any names as she got off, she only made noises, the moans he had first heard, then passionate gasps that made way to screams of release that she muffled by biting one of her pillows. Her orgasm was truly glorious and Tom was considering taking his own matters into his own hands when he heard a surprised, "Tom!" come from her room.

Sheepishly, Tom looked at her shocked reflection in the mirror. She had scrambled to cover herself up and was now making her way to the door. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she screamed. Her face was red with anger.

"I'm so sorry, Mari," he stuttered. "I was just using the loo and... and... I heard a noise." He was sure his face was scarlet with embarrassment, it burned so.

Marielle lifted up her hand and slapped him. "How dare you! I let you stay here... we're friends... friends don't do that!" she sputtered. 

Tom rubbed his jaw. "I'm sorry," he repeated. When she lifted her hand to slap him again, he intercepted it, instead making the split second decision to kiss her. It wasn't a sweet, romantic kiss, not the kind he usually had to do on screen. It was a burning kiss. His lips slammed into hers, his tongue taking the initiative and plunging into her mouth, pushing against her own the way his body pushed hers against the wall. It was the kind of kiss that left lips bruised. He felt her fight against him only for a moment and then she relaxed, her body melting against him, her free hand finding its way around his back, her nails digging into his skin. "I'm sorry," he whispered as he released her when it was over. He leaned back and his eyes searched hers. They were night and day. His light curls against her raven locks, his blue eyes against her dark pools. "I... just..." he found himself floundering. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

Marielle was stunned. "You're not even my type," she sighed. For a brief moment, she realized that, yes, he was her type. Tom wasn't the kind of asshole she found herself dating. He was the nice guy, the knight in shining armor. And her body responded with the realization that Tom was who she had been thinking of when she was alone, when she was touching herself, though she hadn't dare admit it. As she looked up, she saw the concern in his eyes. 

He had let go of her other arm, no longer concerned that she would slap him. "I'll go if you want me to. I can get a hotel. We can forget this happened," he grumbled as he backed away from her.

"No!" Marielle exclaimed. "Don't go." She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards her. "I mean, I'd like you to stay. With me." 

Tom sighed. "I can't do this," he shook his head. "Mari, I've got an admission to make. I know we're friends, but I've wanted more than that since I met you."

Marielle pursed her lips and they smacked as she opened her mouth again. "Okay."

"Okay, what?" Tom looked exhausted and confused.

She kissed him, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck, fingers getting tangled in his curls. Every lost, pent-up emotion was communicated through her lips. She hummed as he wrapped his arms around her. "I want you, too," she whispered as she pulled him with her into the bedroom and kicked the door shut. She pushed Tom backwards towards the end of the bed until he sat down on it. Her fingers moved down and slid into the waistband of his boxers and she pulled them down over his hips. "You seem to have enjoyed the pre-game show," she laughed softly as his erection bobbed in front of her, having finally been released from its constraints.

Tom ran his hands up and down her sides and finally up to her shoulders, pushing the bathrobe off of them, revealing her curves to him. "You're more beautiful than I'd imagined," he said, his voice growing thick with lust. His eyes were hooded as he looked over her body. He leaned into her, inhaling her smell, and took one of her nipples into his mouth. It hardened as he suckled at it, scraping his teeth along it. She keened as he switched breasts, repeating the actions. His hands, held at her hips, began to find their own way around her body, migrating to her front, his long fingers sliding into her slick slit, brushing against the ball of nerves that were already sensitive from her own touch, twitching now at his. 

"Oh, God," she gasped as he worked his fingers inside her, crooking them, using his thumb to circle her clit. Her hips gyrated, threatening to buck against him with each movement. She was already on the verge and he could sense it. He pulled his fingers from her and she whimpered desperately. Grasping her hips again, he scooted backwards on the bed, pulling her with him, until he was leaned against the incline of pillows. Marielle straddled him, his cock at her entrance, her moist heat teasing him. She kissed him again, her need for him evident in the way she sucked on his bottom lip and caught his tongue between her teeth. 

He growled and pulled her down on him, filling her with himself instantly. Marielle groaned, her sex tight around him. As she adjusted to him, she began to pump against him, slowly at first, rocking her hips. Tom grasped her hips, moving her with his own thrusts, pulling her down harder. He watched her as she moved, her motions snakelike in their undulations.

Marielle was on fire. She leaned forward and rested her hands on either side of Tom's shoulders as she licked at his neck and his shoulder, aware only of the feeling of him inside her, his hands as he touched her, his breath against her skin. Her quiet gasps made way to moans as she felt herself being drawn up, her body tensing like a guitar string in the midst of being tuned. Each thrust, each touch and the heat in her middle spread, each muscle pulled tighter until, with one spasm, she unwound, freed of all earthly constraints. "Tom!" she called, his name not leaving her lips as the paroxysms wracked her body. "Oh, God, Tom!"

He felt her tighten up around him, her muscles grasping his cock as she came and it was enough to send him over the edge as well. His own thrusts became more insistent, he held her hips harder as he pounded into her until he exploded, his own hot release shooting into her. A pleasurable grunt escaped his lips as she fell against him, her head rested on his chest, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. 

Their movements slowed until they were no longer dizzied. "That was wonderful," Tom whispered into Marielle's ear. "You are wonderful, Darling."

Marielle leaned up on her elbows. "Next time you see me enjoying myself like that, feel free to join in," she sighed.

"Next time, I will," he smiled.


End file.
